T.C. of an O.J.

Worrying about bills, car repairs, wishing for a better job or at least one I liked. It’s easy to get sucked into playing these mind games during daydreams.

I am the protector and provider! Functional mode is a necessity for the modern working man. What if I had a different job? It wouldn’t be any different.

When I come home, I like everything to be just so. Home may not be much, but at least it can be obsessively clean and tidy. Cleanliness is godliness, or at least it has been said. I’d like my wife to play by my dysfunctional love rules too, but she doesn’t. She didn’t get the rulebook, even though I’ve made her many copies and often recite various laws and codes from it. My rules are wrong!

Playing by the rules?

Loving and emoting are a struggle. When I’m functioning and getting the job done, it is not fun, but it feels strangely comfortable. At home or out with others, stripped of something to do or get done, I feel awkward. I don’t know what to talk about. I’d rather not talk. Relationships and relating feel foreign. It’s hard for me to relax if everything’s not done, which never happens, because I always find something else to do.

I’m worried that I’m not being loving enough with the people I love. When they come, what will my kids think of me? Will they think I’m no fun? Right now, I feel no fun! I seem to take every opportunity for fun and change it into some functional chore.

Oh God, teach me how to relax and enjoy the people in my life. Show me how to be emotional and spontaneous and able to love like you do. Teach me how to think of others lovingly, instead of as a job to do! Teach me a new set of rules for loving!

I’m deeply grieved this morning over the loss of a friend. I got to know him while we were working summers together at the Walton Hills Service Department. He was one of the funniest people I’ve ever met and I still find myself laughing out loud during quiet moments every now and then when I think back on some of the hilarious things he said and did.

The circumstances surrounding his accidental death are tragic - the things you read about in the paper, but never expect to happen to someone you know. I can’t pretend that I was super-close with my friend; our relationship was limited to spray painting our work boots fluorescent colors, stealing ice cream from the park, the assorted other things a seasonal city employee does to past the time, and occasionally meeting up outside of work to go out to a bar or play basketball.

As we parted ways to move onto “real” jobs, we met up a just few times and exchanged random messages on Facebook. I don’t know if I would have ever seen him again except for maybe a chance run-in, but now I know that I won’t, at least not in this life.

We live on this earth as if we’re entitled to the maximum 70-80 short years we should get. While the “best-case” scenario flies by in the blink of an eye anyway, we really aren’t sure when the time will end. This world is extremely fragile and temporary. Teenagers are especially oblivious and naive to their mortality and often live as though they’re indestructible and the choice they jump at won’t affect them permanently. As you live on past high school, you start to hear the names, one by one; of people you knew who’ve passed.

I had only a short time to spend with my friend here on this earth. I’m not really sure if I’ll see him again, although I’m prayerfully hopeful I will. It weighs heavily on my heart because we never talked about things like eternity; rather in the time I spent with him I was absorbed with having fun and determining when the next time we’d play basketball would be. I should have been bolder and shared my faith with him. My heart and prayers go out to his family.

Have I gone “health-nut”? Maybe, but if you’re not interested, don’t read. Otherwise see the first post in my “Gittin’ Fit” series for some more background…

Time for work fitness seminar #2. If you remember, Mr. Fitness Expert is leading our discussion. This week, his highly anticipated topic (no sarcasm here- some people around the office were intensely interested- like “what are we gonna eat!?!?”) is “Principles of Fitness and Fat Burning”.

I, of course, am eager to find out the kind of foods I should eat to maximize fat burning, increase energy levels, and promote muscle building. I’ve known for years that I need to eat better, but have always lacked the motivation to do so. Eating at Chipotle is fun (unless you get the Norovirus) and besides, I’ve always subscribed to the if “if I exercise I can eat whatever I want” theory.

As we walked into the ballroom door, we were offered a wedge-shaped muffin cookie thing that seemed to resemble a doorstop more than it did actual food. However, since everyone else was grabbing them up and I’m not one to refuse free food anyway, I chose a “chocolate chip” flavored wedge.

Mr. Fabulous, we’ll settle on this alias because of his frequent use of the word ‘fabulous’ and his ambiguous sexuality, explains that these principles he’s about to lay out will get us to where we want to go diet/ fitness-wise as quickly and efficiently as possible. Adding to the confusion regarding Mr. Fab’s sexual preference, he put up a map of the US Interstate 80 saying, “You have to know where you’re going”, before demonstrating that the highway lead to San Francisco, notorious for its homosexual population.

From last time, the main objective of these principles is to keep everyone’s body in the ideal state where consistent nutrient levels are maintained. When this level is maintained, only then id your body convinced that there’s no reason to hold onto the extra fat it is carrying. “Why does your body store fat?” Fabulous questions rhetorically, “Because you’re not giving your body the fuel it needs!”

When you do give your body the fuel it needs, then it can reduce fat and increase fat burning. After all, the more you deprive your body, the more it holds onto fat. It sounded counter-intuitive at first, but through Fab’s persuasive argument, it started to make sense. In order to lose weight, you have to eat…the right things.

Mr. Fab explained his 4 objectives when he works with clients:

1. Increase and/ or rebuild lean, healthy, fat-burning metabolism

2. Achieve ideal body fat (Men = 12-17%, Women = 20-25%)

3. …with minimal effort necessary

4. Realistically maintain ideal health, fitness, and body composition levels with the “80/20 Rule”

Fabulous is quick to qualify everything he’s about to say as essential. In other words, his principles aren’t just recommendations; they’re straight up, tried and true methods he’s arrived at through careful trial and error with clients trying to lose weight and keep it off over the years. At this point he puts up statistics of his clients’ weight loss results and boasts that he trained Torrie Wilson as she put the final touches to her physique before the Ms. Galaxy competition. He is not lacking in confidence.

Fitness Diva Torrie Wilson

When Mr. Fab proudly displayed a photo of his most famous client, it further clouded the unresolved question of his sexuality and was met with groans from the females in the audience while the males didn’t seem to mind.

Principle #1 – Consume the right number of calories.

This should be less than your total metabolism, but more than your basal requirement (what your body expends just to stay alive). When people get busy and miss meals, they don’t get enough “real” calories. Mr. Fab is quick to point out that McDonald’s does not qualify as “real” calories.

The optimal caloric intake is between 1500-2700 for women and 2250-3600 for men, using the general rule that you need 10-11 calories per pound of body weight per day. Your optimal caloric intake is always changing, Fab explained, because it is determined by the amount of lean muscle you have. So, the “fitter” you get, the more calories you need to eat, or else the fat burning stops. As you lose body fat, you must eat more! Like I told you, very counter-intuitive!

Mr. Fab also makes the interesting side note that the best time to lose body fat is during pregnancy because you’re dealing with two metabolisms. This gets a reaction from the crowd and he promises to address it further and an upcoming seminar.

Principle #2 – Eat frequently throughout the day.

Ok, this is one I’ve heard before. I’ve actually toyed with doing “Body for Life” which seems very similar.

Mr. Fab explains that ideally you should eat 5-6 meals per day. For women, this meal should consist of 300 calories, for men 450 calories. He emphasizes that you must eat breakfast because it raises your metabolic rate 10%, or the equivalent of 30 minutes on a treadmill.

5-6 meals per day equates to eating roughly every 2 to 3.5 hours. Fab explained that if you’re not hungry at these intervals, it’s a problem. “Listen to your hunger and obey”, he commanded, “and eat before your cravings dictate your behavior!” The reason why people crave sweets after they eat is they often wait too long to eat in the first place. When you eat before you get hungry on the other hand, it tells your body fat that it has no business being there!

Principle #3 – Eat the right combination of nutrients per meal.

According to Mr. Fabulous, your body requires a certain ratio of nutrients – 50% complex carbohydrates, 30% protein, and 20% fat. Therefore, each meal you eat must contain 1 serving of a fruit or vegetable, 1 serving of complex carbs, and 1 serving of protein to maximize results.

Alone, just eating a bagel is no good because in isolation protein, fiber, or fat slow carbohydrate absorption, but combine the bagel with an apple and a piece of chicken and it’s the ideal meal.

“Proper combinations of nutrients will also make you feel better”, stated Mr. Fab flamboyantly.

Principle #4 – Eat the right quality of food.

“A calorie is not calorie”, reasoned Mr. Fabulous. “You must avoid sugars and processed carbs”, he bellowed, condemning the very thing most in the audience have made the primary staple of their diets. He advocated the “caveman rule” – if a caveman wouldn’t eat it, you shouldn’t either. So, a diet should consist of complex carbs and stick to lean (low-fat) protein choices.

At this point, Mr. Fab passed out information on the foods he considers the best proteins, fats, and carbohydrates to eat and shows the quantities to eat them in. The top vegetable – broccoli, the top fruit – apple, the top complex carb – kidney beans, the top lean protein – egg whites, and the top condiment – flax seed oil.

Mmm, pass me some of that flax seed oil. I’m going to douse my ¾ cup of kidney beans with 1 tsp. of that s%$#!

This principle is the biggie: its clear followers will lose fat, but it’s also the potential sticking point in my mind to everything Mr. Fabulous laid out. Sure, in theory a diet like this sounds good, but practically, I don’t have enough money to pay someone to prepare all these ideal meals for me! That means I’m going to have to pre-plan 5-6 meals a day!?!

Broccoli

…and the award for best veggie goes to…Broccoli!

I don’t know if I’m up for this, as it would require a dramatic change in my diet, not to mention a seemingly huge preparation commitment. Then again, I’ve wanted to eat right for years. So has my wife. Maybe we’ll try it.

This portion of the seminar also made me really hungry.

Mr. Fabulous went on to say most people don’t eat enough fat in their diets. He explained that men should consume 7-8 grams of fat and women 5-6 grams, of good, from the list fat. Water is important too and you should consume 64-100 oz per day. Coffee is okay with meals, but disappointingly, pop and juice are not ok!

Mr. Fab encouraged everyone to undertake this daunting task cautioning that most people would actually have trouble eating 5 of these prescribed meals per day because their metabolism is so out of shape. Over a few weeks, however, sticking to this regiment will get your metabolism back on track. Cook the meals in advance and focus on breakfast, he urged.

Later, I joked with employees from my department who also attended the seminar that they’d be removing the chili-cheese Frito’s and stocking the vending machine at work with shark, flax seed oil, and those little wedge shaped health muffins that were passed out at the beginning of the meeting.

Principle #5 – Exercise effectively.

Of course, the food needs to be right, see #4. Cardiovascular exercise is recommended because it trains the body to burn more fat. Mr. Fab recommends 15-25 minutes initially for beginners as the minimum amount, focusing on larger muscles (like the legs) but states, “You do need to get sweaty!”

The ideal time, according to Fab, is to eat no later than 1/2 hour after a workout, or before if you need to. You can eat the last meal of the day whenever you choose, as long as it has a high-ranked carb and includes a vegetable. The worst thing you can eat before bed is ice cream.

Even though my brief vacation wasn’t over yet, I wasn’t really enjoying it as much as I’d hoped. My thoughts were already drifting back and forth between warm holiday thoughts and panicked realizations that what seemed to be a lengthy respite would soon be ending. A metal on metal head on collision would have been more preferable, as the horrible grind high school teachers like to use to scare their students known as the “real world” was once again looming.

But, I still had one more day of vacation. I tried to brush painful thoughts of responsibility and work aside for the time being and crawled out of bed. Last night was New Year’s Eve, it was 2008 now. I had a few drinks early in the evening and a Champaign toast at the stroke of midnight, so I felt much better than previous New Year’s mornings. Still, my feet always hurt for a few moments when they first hit the ground coming out of the bed. I guess they just feel the way the rest of me feels about getting up in the morning.

I showered and prepared to make the most of my day. I felt like I was preparing for my last hours of freedom on the outside. Before taking the half-hour car ride with my wife to my childhood home in Walton Hills, there were a few errands I needed to run. We borrowed the highly addictive and popular Guitar Hero from Jake. I needed to return this game because it isn’t mine and it had to be out of the house so I wouldn’t whammy in anymore new years by staying up until 5 in the morning playing on the easy level.

It was snowing outside. If anyone that tells you they like winter or snow and they don’t own a ski resort or participate in some winter X game is lying. Winter looks good when you’re in summer or staring at it through the window of some warm place snuggled up with a cup of coco in your hand. However, when you have to deal with the practical side of winter, scraping ice off your car, doing 180’s on icy roads, shoveling snow, etc., winter sucks.

Forgetting to slow down given the blizzard-like conditions, I raced to the door to drop off the game. Forgetting all the unpleasant thoughts about work, I was in a good mood now and I had a little bounce in my step. The problem is, bouncing and winter don’t mix.

Naively I ran back to the car, which was warm and running with my wife inside, bounding through the yard towards the vehicle. The driveway, I soon learned, was a little lower than the front yard and was separated by a wooden railroad tie. I planted my Nike on the tie in hopes of reaching down towards the door handle, but instead my foot found no traction and hurled upwards into the air. There was nothing to grab onto and no rewind button to undo what was about to happen.

My body was parallel with the ground now. The millisecond I was in the air was short, but long enough for me to decide to be angry about what was happening. I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to hit the ground hard, but I’d make up for it in some idiotic way by acting all mad when I was on my feet again. I slammed onto the wet, icy driveway below, but the fury inside me worked like lighting to shoot me back upright. I was filled with rage, anger, and most of all embarrassment. I pounded my fist on the car window as if my Camry had some how conspired with the ice and snow to foil me.

Controlled?

My wife had gotten a front row seat to what had to have been a shockingly hilarious spectacle. Of course, she’d later say she waited to laugh until she knew I was OK, but in the moment in felt like the whole world was watching me.

Inconsolable, I was back in the car now. It wasn’t my wife’s fault I had slipped to the ground, but in the few stupid, tense moments after re-entering the car she probably felt like I was taking it out on her. A little muddied and bruised, but OK. I would be sore in the morning. When you slip in the winter it always hurts even if you try to catch yourself, sometimes more. You turn your hand all shades of blue, red, and purple bracing for the ground, yet it only seems to make matters worse when your hip takes the brunt of the blow. Maybe my wife was correct in mentioning that the bright side was at least I wasn’t older or I would have surely broken my hip. However, I don’t feel that young today.

Why did I get so angry? It was a silly accident, I was basically OK, and no one but my loving wife was there to witness it. If I can’t allow her to laugh at me, who can? Of course, when I calmed down, I was able to laugh at myself a few minutes later, but it the heat of the moment I was just so mad. What was the use of letting my emotions get the best of me and turn a silly accident onto something even worse?

My pride prevented me from getting up and laughing it off right away. I felt like I needed to get even with the ground or old man winter for dealing me such a horrible card!

I’m sore, but I’ll recover. It feels like I got tackled by a gorilla or crashed my car. But, I think the thing that got hurt most by the fall was my pride.

Man, some days it’s just hard to drag yourself out of bed isn’t it? Another day of work or school seems so unappealing that my mind races for any loophole out of the inevitable day of grind ahead of me. I went to bed late and I keep promising myself I’ll make the sleep up to my body, but another night with a few hours of sleep has passed, and morning has arrived.

This is pretty much exactly how I feel.

Why don’t we all just quit at the same time?

Maybe I could call into work sick or maybe I could quit. My job is boring anyway, right? Why couldn’t I be back in college where I could just skip class for the day? I feel like a boxer that just got laid out on the canvas by a devastating punch from Mike Tyson. My eyes are blurry, my head hurts, and I just want to stay down. Why can’t I win the lottery? I wish the bank would burn down…then I wouldn’t have to go to work. Just drop a bomb on us…so I can sleep.

Just blow it all up.

Problem Solved.

But, after a few insane moments of thinking, I pull myself out of bed and stumble to the shower. God, I hate shaving. It takes so much time…but I’m moving now and I have to keep moving. I’m responsible for a family now, so if I screw up others will suffer too. There are people counting on me, namely my wife.

Why can’t life just be a parade of fun experiences? Why can’t we do whatever we want- joblessly lay on the couch all day eating Flavor Blasted Goldfish watching Hot Rod? The truth is, I led that life and it was pretty depressing. Sure, it seemed appealing at times and it’s definitely easier than holding down a full time job while juggling other responsibilities, but it was insignificant.

What does God want from us as Christians? What does the life of a godly man look like? Often, I feel it should look like people in my life recognizing how great and awesome I am and heaping praise and attention on me for it. But the bible says it looks like something completely different as decidedly unglamorous. Paul urges, “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands, just as we commanded you, so that you will behave properly toward outsiders and not be in any need.”

Is that it, Paul? Where’s the excitement and fulfillment of the Christian life? It’s so boring to live a disciplined life, succeeding at the small things, being responsible, loyal, and committed. It’s way easier to just live life on a whim, carried around by feelings, isn’t it?

But Paul knew what he was talking about. God wants nothing more than for us to be the kind of people that can be counted on. He values workers he knows will show up on time, lunch pail in hand and punch the clock everyday.

Mr. Grabby Hands

Everybody Wants Some!

When I think about the people who have had the most impact in my life, it’s been these kinds of people. Growing up, I always knew I could count on my Dad. Even now, when I face a problem I know he will be there, but it is only recently that I am truly realizing how much he must have loved me to drop whatever he was doing at work to come help me when I got into trouble. Now, I get these same calls for help at work and I understand how inconvenient it can sometimes be to be relied on. People need to be picked up and dropped off, the car is broken down and I have to do something about it, there are bills to pay, and I have to teach cell group tonight! It sometimes feels like a thousand hands are pulling at me and inside I just want to retreat away from it all. On top of everything, I’m at work and supposed to be working! As a result, I have a deeper love and respect for my father.

Keith is another person who is counted on by a tremendous amount of people. Just imagine for a second if he just decided on a whim that he was going on strike for a week and disappeared? Fellowship in our church as we know it would grind to a halt. We depend on Keith and take him for granted because he is the type of person Paul is speaking of. Everyday he is consistently spiritual.

Sure there are friends we know that are good for a good laugh or a good time. But when we run down the list of people who really matter in our life, the people we really can count on, the people we’d call if we were in jail and had one phone call, these are the people who continually answer the bell in life, round after round.

Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive, and Dodge!

Who’s your Daddy? Keep Fighting!

Grinding it out in life may sound like a legalistic works focus, but it isn’t. Becoming the kind of person that can be counted in both the everyday things of life and the weightier spiritual matters of existence requires radical faith and dependence on God. The reason why God wants to transform us into people that can be counted on is because being significant to someone or something is fulfilling! It makes life worth living! It’s not really so much of a grind after all when you’ve got people to go home to that love and depend on you! As Keith explains,

It was God who placed this drive for significance deep in our hearts when He first created [us !]…People may define significance differently, but everyone still defines it and pursues it. We must find it. We were designed for it, and without it life becomes so random and painful that people kill themselves or others or settle into a resigned, grinding death.

We long to be significant and counted on. The people who can get up off the canvas when life throws it’s toughest punches are the people we turn to when times get tough in our life. Keep fighting, keep seeking God. People who don’t get up off the couch are left wondering why they’re depressed and lonely. I’m hoping that God can transform me into this kind of person. Sure, sometimes it’s not fun to be responsible and disciplined, but it results in people being able to rely on depend on you, which generates true feelings of significance and worth in life.

I walked to the library as I normally do most afternoons at the office. The journey is the perfect antidote to the after lunch wave of tiredness that wants to sweep over my body. I’m an active person in the first place, so sitting at a desk all day isn’t appealing either. I use the Akron Library regularly, to the point where the library employees who aren’t mean, lazy, or a little off (this leaves just a few) usually start collecting the CDs and DVDs that I have on hold when they see me approaching the counter.

Sometimes, mostly on Fridays, I take a few minutes to browse the CD collection at the library and see if anything jumps out at me before I pick up the items that I’ve already requested. Today was no different and I was looking over shelves of alphabetized media when I felt the familiar gurgle of my stomach informing me that it was time to address the Taco Bell I’d eaten yesterday during the Indians game and the Chipotle I had just minutes earlier for lunch.

While not the most ideal place to sit down and defecate, I’ve done so in worse places. The library invites its share of people who have no where else to go during the day and have no other access to the resources it provides, which is why the public library is so valuable to the community. But opening up the gates and having a warm, public place with toilets and sinks for people to gather also attracts weirdoes, creeps, and unseemly people like moths congregating to a bug-zapper.

I try not to think of such things, especially when I’m dropping my pants to use the facilities. It’s hard not to look around and get freaked out about germs or other things that could be happening in a public bathroom in Akron, but that’s why they have the little paper thingy shaped like the toilet lid. Plus, the bathroom is usually reasonably clean, as the Library on Main Street is actually a pretty nice, newer building despite being grand central station for people waiting for buses during the day and as I mentioned anyone else in Akron.

The toilet is an automatic flusher. I don’t know if these are designed to be more economical or just seem more futuristic, but in my opinion, automatic flushers suck. I just wanted to get in, do my business and get out and back to collecting my CDs, but the toilet kept flushing randomly while I was trying to use it. This made me somewhat mad, but since it was Friday I just had to laugh. But, it wouldn’t stop happening. The problem with the automatic flusher flushing while you’re sitting on it is it sends a spray of water up out of the toilet while simultaneously making a horrible whooshing noise like a jet is trying to take off out of the bowl. Getting misted in the ass while trying to poop added insult to an already unpleasant situation.

Finally, the demon that had possessed the toilet must have gotten bored and left, or else he found someone else to spray in the butt on another floor. I was squeezing out the last of it when I heard someone come into the bathroom. I’ve always had a problem with the privacy that public bathrooms do not afford; however, I’ve kind of gotten over it in the last few years because sometimes there’s no other real option. It’s weird though because someone else is in the bathroom, some stranger, and he knows that you’re pooping and you know that he knows. You try not to make any noises, but with the stall door closed and your pants hanging dangerously close to the floor, no sounds are really needed anyway because you’re already comprimised.

The stranger did what most bathroom strangers do: he came in, made a few short grunts and “hrrrmmphh”s, and unbuckled his pants. It sounded like the mysterious figure was using the urinal, so I reasoned in my mind he wouldn’t be long. Seconds later I heard a flush. I waited but did not hear the sink start to run as it should. No problem, I thought, that’s not really abnormal for a public library or a men’s bathroom, so I listened harder. I didn’t hear the door opening to the outside either. Seconds passed, yet nothing but more silence. I waited what seemed to be many more minutes. After the flush I hadn’t heard a sink, a door, or any footsteps…was the stranger just standing at the urinal? I didn’t dare to try to peak under the stall from where I was sitting but I wanted to in order to alleviate my growing curiosity. Several more minutes passed in total silence and now I was thinking more about why I hadn’t heard anything but a flush than getting off the toilet myself. Realizing the absurdity of the situation, I chuckled to myself and snapped back to reality. What was I doing? I probably just didn’t hear the door open and close over the loud sound of the urinal flushing. Anyway, what did I care?

I reached for the toilet paper situated closely adjacent to the toilet bowl and ripped off a nice, healthy hand full. I positioned myself, readied to wipe, and at the same time tried not activate the automatic flush feature again. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught the glimpse of something dark and shadowy. Somberly, I lifted and turned my head, my heart starting to beat. I looked towards the crack between the stall and door that was poorly designed to be perfectly aligned with whomever was sitting on the toilet inside. Peering through the opening at me was the most frightening face I’ve ever seen. Too scared to say or do anything, I was immediately paralyzed with terror, too frightened to jump up or look away. My eyes continued to stare directly into wild eyes and I couldn’t tell if the face was so heinous because it had evil intentions, because it was so horribly weathered and scarred, or both. It was obvious the gaze of the stranger, who clearly hadn’t showered or shaven for weeks, wasn’t the product of a mistake or harmless intent. Then, an overwhelming smell took a hold of me and squashed any intrusive odor I had created with my bathroom visit.

Fighting back the urge to vomit, I finally exploded in a combination of fear and rage I have never felt before towards the figure and yelled “What the HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?”. I sprung up and hurriedly hosted my pants on with total disregard for what had been happening moments before, now only concerned with my own safety. Psychologists talk of a “fight or flight” response taking control when a person is faced with a dangerous situation. In a single moment, I felt my hard beating at fever pitch so hard it seemed it would beat out of my chest and my body was overwhelmed with adrenaline. I burst through the stall door towards the figure, now unable to recollect if I opened the latch or used my shoulder to smash through it. The stall crashed open and I flew into the tile floor below me. I smacked my head hard on the door or the floor, which I don’t know because time was moving so fast I could barely maintain conscience. In a split second of disorientation I saw black and thought I was losing control, but after I slumped to the ground, from my stomach I saw the bathroom door open and the shadow hurriedly make its exit from the room.

I probably sat on the floor for another hour just blankly staring at the empty stall. What the hell just happened to me? I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe I should have reported the man or what happened to the many security guards that wander the libarary, I thought. A few people came into the bathroom during this time, but apparently no one heard anything to make them investigate the commotion coming from inside, or maybe no one cared. A few people asked if I was alright, but the teenagers with headphones on and baggy pants sagged around their hips probably thought I was just another crazy person in the library and chose to look away and pretend I wasn’t there.

Eventually, I collected myself and started to comprehend that I had to go back to my office where almost certainly co-workers had begun to wonder where I had disappeared to for so long. I stood up and walked towards the sink and mirror where I fixed my shirt and carefully looked myself over. I felt violated and strange, although thankfully I was alright. I had a small red mark on the side of my head, but it was buried far enough into my hairline that I reasoned I could make it to the end of the day without arousing any suspicion to what happened in the bathroom and I resolved mentally that I wouldn’t ever tell anyone about it. Then, I looked down to wash my hands and realized my wedding ring was gone.